Chapter 16 Never Again, Mr. Tattoo
KARA’S POV
I wake up tangled in the sheets, the soft morning light casting a pale glow over everything. His body is still next to mine, the rise and fall of his chest slow and steady. But as I stare at him, I can't shake the ache in my chest. His tattoos are dark against his skin, marking him as someone who has lived a life of complexity and contradiction.
And I… I feel so small next to him.
His presence, his heat, his touch, and the way he takes, claims, and leaves me, it all stirs something in me. But I’ve come to realize that it's a dangerous feeling, one that I can’t allow myself to fall deeper into.
The tears come before I even realize it. Slowly at first, just a trickle, but then they come faster, more desperate.
I can’t stop them.
I bite my lip to silence the sob that rises in my throat. My chest tightens, the pain so raw I feel like I’m being torn apart from the inside. He's made me feel like I’m everything to him, and then nothing, over and over again. He touches me like he owns me, pulls me in, and then leaves me adrift, alone, questioning everything I thought I knew about myself.
And yet…
I can’t stop wanting him and I can’t stop needing him.
Before I even realize it, he stirs beside me, his groggy voice low in the quiet of the room.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is thick with sleep, but when he sees the tears streaming down my face, panic flickers in his eyes. He reaches for me, his hand cupping my face gently.
I flinch, my body recoiling from him despite the comforting warmth of his touch. I don't want his comfort. I don’t want his pity.
"Don’t," I whisper, my voice shaking, but I push his hand away anyway. The blanket is the only thing between my bare skin and his, but even that feels like too much. "This has to stop."
I sit up quickly, the blanket falling from my body, and I don’t look at him. I can’t. If I do, I know I’ll lose myself all over again.
“Why are you crying?” His voice is frantic now, but I can hear the selfishness, the desperation to keep me close, to not lose control over me.
I bite my lip, swallowing the bitter taste that fills my mouth. “This will be the last time, Mr. Stewheinz. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.”
I stand abruptly, my legs trembling beneath me, but I’m determined. Determined to walk away from this toxic pull that keeps dragging me back in.
He doesn’t let me.
Before I can even take a step toward the door, his arms are around me, pulling me back into his chest, holding me tight, as if he’s afraid that if he lets go, I’ll vanish.
“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he presses his lips against my hair. I can feel the weight of his words, the truth in them, but I know it’s not enough. Not enough to fix what’s broken between us.
His nakedness against my skin is too much to bear. I can’t let myself be pulled back into this and into him... again.
I turn in his arms, pushing at his chest as my hands are shaking with the effort.
“Let me go!” I shout, my voice hoarse, raw with emotion. “You have a girlfriend, and you keep treating me like I’m nothing but your toy! I’m not your plaything, Mr. Stewheinz!”
The words hit harder than I expect, and I see the shock flash across his face. For a moment, he freezes, the weight of my words sinking in.
But then, something shifts in his eyes. He steps back, his jaw clenched tight. His pride is wounded, and it stings more than I want to admit.
I grab my clothes from the floor, my hands trembling as I pull on my jeans and shirt. The tears are still there, threatening to fall again, but I refuse to let him see how much he’s breaking me.
“Don’t touch me again,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper, but the anger behind it is clear.
Before he can react, I turn and run out of the room, my heart pounding in my chest, my footsteps echoing in the empty hallway.
I hear him calling my name, but I don’t stop and I don’t look back.
Four days later...
It’s been four days since I last saw him. Four days of peace, or at least the illusion of it. The last thing I want is to think about him again, but it’s impossible not to. Today marks the start of my seventh week in this internship, and next week will be my last. Time has flown by in a blur of deadlines, checklists, and assignments that have kept me grounded, buried under work that demands my focus.
The exhaustion is starting to catch up with me, but the rush of pride when I’m awarded "Best Intern of the Week" for my efforts makes it feel worth it. It’s the validation I’ve been craving. The recognition that I’m doing something right.
But the excitement of that award doesn't last long.
“Good job, Kara,” Aaron says as he pats my back, his smile warm and genuine. We’ve grown close over the past few weeks, bonding over late-night study sessions and shared stories.
I find myself spending most of my time with him now. He’s become a steady presence in my life, someone I can rely on, someone who doesn’t make me feel like I’m just another thing to be conquered.
But today, I hear news that I wasn’t expecting.
“Aaron’s not coming in today,” Sancha says, her voice tinged with concern. “Family matters, probably something urgent.”
I feel a pang in my chest, not for Aaron’s family, because I don’t even know what’s happening, but because of the sudden emptiness I feel when he’s not around. For weeks now, his presence has kept me grounded, distracted. Without him, the office suddenly feels quieter, and I’m left to think. To think about everything I’ve been pushing away.
That’s when I hear that Mr. Finnian Matthew Stewheinz is back.
The whisper spreads quickly through the office, and my stomach churns.
I don't know what to feel.
Relief? Fear? Resentment?
I hear the sound of footsteps approaching, and against my better judgment, I look up. And there he is. His eyes land on me, and it feels like the entire room stops. His gaze is sharp and calculating.
But I quickly look away, focusing on my computer screen like it’s the most important thing in the world. I can feel the weight of his presence on me, like an invisible thread pulling me closer to him despite myself.
I want to forget about him, I want to forget how his touch made me feel, and how it felt to be everything and nothing to him all at once.
But as always, he’s the one in control.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur, the air thick with tension. When the workday ends, I gather my things, hoping to get out of here before he has a chance to corner me again.
But as I make my way to the parking garage, it happens.
I feel it before I even see him, his presence, his sharpness, and the intoxicating scent of his expensive cologne. A familiar grip catches my arm, pulling me back before I can reach my car.
I freeze.
"Not again," I mutter under my breath, my heart racing in my chest.
His fingers curl tighter around my arm, and I don’t need to look up to know who it is. I don’t need to feel his touch to know it’s him.
“Let me go,” I snap, trying to pull my arm away from his grasp. But he tightens his hold, and before I can say anything more, I feel the heat of his breath on my neck.
“Just one night, Kara,” he says, his voice low and commanding. “I want you tonight.”
His words hit me like a physical blow, stirring something deep inside me. The part of me that wants to fight him. The part that knows I should push him away for good.
I jerk my arm free from his grasp, spinning around to face him. My body is trembling, not from fear, but from the intensity of this battle inside me. The war between wanting to give in and wanting to walk away.
I shoot him a sharp glare, my voice trembling with frustration. “What do you want from me, huh? Haven’t you done enough already?”
He stands there, eyes dark, a mix of frustration and desire flickering in his gaze. But I don’t care. I can’t care.
“I want you,” he says again, softer now, but still laced with that unmistakable possessiveness.
“No,” I snap, backing away. My mind is racing, but my body knows what it wants. And what it doesn’t want.
I turn away from him and quickly walk toward my car, the engine already revving in my mind. I need to get out of here because I need to breathe.
But before I can reach my door, I hear his footsteps behind me again. He’s following me, and for a split second, the old instincts kick in. I can feel my heart hammering in my chest. This time, I won’t let him catch me.
I climb into the car as my fingers are fumbling with the keys as I start the engine.
But the moment I look up, I see him standing at the entrance to the garage, watching me. His eyes are unreadable, but I know what he’s thinking. He’s daring me to stay and to let him in again. For a moment, I just sit there, the engine running, and I breathe deeply, forcing my pulse to steady.
Then, without a second thought, I drive off. I don’t look back because I don’t want to see him anymore and I don’t want to feel the pull of his touch or hear the sound of his voice.
But deep down, I know it’s not over, not by a long shot.